


So Called Punishment

by anysin



Series: Kinktober 2017 [19]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Anal Fingering, Frottage, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Sibling Incest, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 16:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13485660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anysin/pseuds/anysin
Summary: Ford has messed up, so Stan punishes him. Originally written for Kinktober 2017.





	So Called Punishment

“C'mon.” Stan smiles to him, patting his lap. “Bend over.”

Ford considers Stan’s knees for a moment. Can they handle it if Stan is holding Ford on top of them? But when Stan pats his lap again, Ford walks over to him; might as well not prolong this. They have things they need to get done this evening, so they better be done with this soon.

But, hopefully not too soon.

“Should I take my pants off?” he asks when he’s standing next to Stan, folding his hands behind his back. He tries not to sound too eager; this is supposed to be a punishment, for nearly destroying the boat with an experiment gone wrong. Ford thinks his true punishment was the silent treatment that Stan gave him the days after that incident happened, but Stan may not feel the same way. Ford needs to take this seriously.

“Let’s see how this goes, first,” Stan says, and with that Ford is out of excuses. He bends over Stan’s lap, lowering himself down stomach first; his buttocks curve out when his hips come to rest against Stan’s legs, his groin nestling in the space between them. Ford feels a twitch between his own legs, wishing he could press against Stan’s warm thigh.

“Ready to start?” Stan asks, and Ford nods; from the corner of his eye, he can see Stan’s hand rising into air.

The hand comes down hard on his right buttock, making his whole ass jiggle. A muffled groan escapes from Ford; Stan’s strength has always been in his hands. Stan proves that again as he smacks Ford again, and again, delivering firm, harsh smacks in a steady rhythm.

Ford lets his eyes slide shut, teeth pressing against his lip with each smack that hits him, his cock growing thick between his legs. It’s only a matter of time until Stan notices it, realizes that Ford isn’t taking this as seriously as he should- but it’s both of them who are breathing heavily, Stan’s hand that lingers on his ass every now and then between the blows, Stan’s fingers hooking to the waistband of Ford’s pants.

“Now we can take these off,” Stan says, his voice breathy; Ford reacts immediately, taking his hands down to his zipper and pulling it down, shimmying his pants down over his hips. Stan yanks them down to his knees, running a bare hand over the curve of his ass first before pulling his hand back and slamming it right to the spot where Ford’s ass cheeks and thighs meet, making Ford jolt.

“Christ!”

“Not our guy.” Ford doesn’t get a chance to roll his eyes over that when Stan strikes him hard and fast on both of his ass cheeks; Ford’s back arches before he can hold himself back, his mouth parting in a cry again.

His cock is fully erect now, rising against Stan’s inner thigh. Ford can feel something poke him too, heat spreading over his face as he realizes that Stan has become hard too, he is enjoying this just as much. It almost doesn’t matter that the blows are really starting to hurt, stinging longer on Ford’s flesh; in fact that just excites him further, that Stan is getting so into this. Still, he spreads his legs a little, hoping Stan will take it as an invitation to do more.

To his pleasure, Stan does. Ceasing with the smacks, Stan rests one broad palm against the small of Ford’s back and slips the fingers of his other hand between Ford’s ass cheeks, the tips stroking over his hole. It takes all Ford’s will power to not buck into the touch, meaning he has none left when Stan pushes one finger against the puckered entrance, pressing until it starts to go inside.

“Stan!”

“That’s your guy.” Stan’s voice is low, whispery. He pushes one dry finger carefully inside Ford, rubbing it against the flesh around it before it reaches the gland inside, stroking it until Ford is seeing stars. “I’m your guy, Stanford.”

Stan’s other hand leaves the small of Ford’s back and goes between their legs, grabbing Ford’s cock. Ford can’t resist anymore; he thrusts, bucking against the finger entering him and into the fist holding his cock, and Stan is sure to follow his movements, filling him and squeezing him. It’s a little hard from his position, but Ford gropes for Stan’s groin anyway, smirking when he finds a distinct bulge within Stan’s boxers.

“Yes,” Stan drawls, thrusting lightly against Ford’s palm. “Let me have it, let me have you-”

Stan pumps him fast, rubbing firm circles against his prostate as Ford’s hips begin to twitch with abandon, his balls pulling tight as he comes. He keeps rubbing his palm against Stan’s clothed cock, even as everything about him goes soft and limp; when he slides from Stan’s legs to the floor, coming down to rest on his side, he sees as Stan tugs his boxers down and starts stroking himself, yanking on his cock until it spills its release.

For a while, Ford just lies there while Stan falls backwards on the bed, chest heaving with deep breaths. Ford drags himself up eventually, walking over to the bed and lying down next to Stan. He rests his hand down on Stan’s chest, feeling it move beneath his palm.

“Thinking about how to get back at me already?” Stan asks, watching him with drowsy eyes for a moment before closing them.

Ford just smiles down at him.


End file.
